


One of Those New York Things

by ladygray99



Category: Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21762013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygray99/pseuds/ladygray99
Summary: Janine is a New Yorker first.
Relationships: Janine Melnitz/Egon Spengler
Comments: 19
Kudos: 50
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	One of Those New York Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyArmyOfMeezers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyArmyOfMeezers/gifts).



“Ghostbusters.” Janine tried not to snap, tried to maintain a professional receptionist voice but it was late, she was hungry, and she’d stepped in some goo the guys had dragged in. She was pretty sure whatever it was, was eating through the soles of her good shoes. Not that she wasn’t used to stepping in weird crap. She rode the subway. But usually the crap in the subway didn’t glow blue and smell like sulfur.

She took down the address of the lady on the other end and went through the list of questions Egon had given her. Well, some of them. Most people don’t know if there is a chance their apartment building is built over a temporal wormhole.

Her mother had called the night before from Florida. She always did the day after her pension check cleared. “It’s an extermination company,” Janine had explained. It wasn’t a lie, not technically.

“That’s good steady work. Any of the guys single?”

“Every last one.” The lie had been blatant and obvious. She didn’t need or want a boyfriend, and even if there was maybe someone she liked she particularly didn’t want her mother nagging her about it.

“You’re not getting any younger.”

Janine faked a break in the line and hung up.

The doors to the firehouse opened and the battered old ambulance rolled in. She watched as the boys stumbled out. Hiring Winston was supposed to help lighten the load but the calls kept coming in, hour by hour, day by day. 

“How many more have we got?” Ray asked. His words were mumbled, running together into a single almost undecipherable sound. He was obviously tired. They all were.

She held up two slips of paper. “Class 4, bleeding walls, kids in the house. Then a class six in an empty warehouse doing a lot of damage but no one’s around.”

“I thought it would be helpful if Janine triaged the calls for efficiency, taking into account danger to people, property damage, and of course anything scientifically unusual,” Egon said to the other three who just nodded as they dragged full traps to the containment unit. Peter had tried to make that part of her job but she’d learned a long time ago that you have to draw a line or demand more money. And seeing as how she was doing collections; she knew how much money they didn’t have to pay her with.

“I cleaned the coffee pot and there’s fresh brew if you boys want to fuel up.”

This got her a smile and she felt a little less tired.  
~  
“How’s the job?” her mom asked.

“You know New York. There will always be rats.” She didn’t want to say that there might not always be a New York. She had found Egon hunched over, rubbing his eyes, smudging the inside of his glasses. She’d just meant to drop off one more cup of coffee before catching her train. She slid aside some printer paper covered in red scribbles and put down the coffee.

“How bad is it?” she asked.

“Have you got family, Janine?”

“Ma’s in Florida. Sister’s in Hoboken.” 

“Maybe you should take some vacation time and visit your mother.”

Janine snorted. Her mother would have criticized her for being unladylike. “This job doesn’t come with vacation.” Egon finally raised his head to blink at her. His eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion and his glasses were filthy. “Oh, here.” She pulled some tissue from her pocket and gently slipped the glasses from Egon’s face. It would be better with some soap and water or one of those fancy cloths they sell at the optometrist but tissue would do.

She slid the cleaner glasses back on his face. “Thank you.” His voice was soft and he quickly glanced away from her again.

“Drink your coffee. You’ll figure it all out.”

“If I don’t—”

“You will. Now drink your coffee before it gets cold and grows more mold for your collection.”

~

They smell. They smell like burnt sugar, sweat, fear, ozone, and dog hair. They smell like the worst of New York summer with a candy coating. That doesn’t stop her from throwing her arms around Egon. 

She’d been scared when the containment unit burst open. She’d hidden it behind sarcasm and indifference. First rule of being a New Yorker, show no fear. It was harder to hide that fear when the unnaturally black clouds had spun around central park and lights had dropped from the sky. Knowing her boys were in the middle of whatever shit was happening but not knowing what was going on had not helped. Not that there had been anyone to see her fear.

They drove back to the firehouse. There was nowhere else to go even with a clean hole from ceiling to basement. They drove through the police tape, there was no one there to stop them, and piled out of ECTO 1. 

“I don’t suppose we can get some coffee?” Peter muttered, rubbing at his eyes with sticky fingers.

“Power’s out,” Janine reminded them.

“Man, I just need a shower,” was Ray’s comment.

“Water’s out to.”

“Of course, it is.”

They all sat, the last of the adrenaline burning out of their systems. Egon was staring at his hands, pressing his fingers together and slowing pulling them apart, watching the sticky skin stretch. 

“Does anyone still have an apartment with a decent water heater?” Ray asked.

Janine sighed after a minute of silence. “Come on. I’ve got a can of instant coffee I just opened.”

~

“Tell me you’re okay!”

“Ma, I’m fine. I was nowhere near anything.” It was the 27th. She wasn’t expecting to hear from her mother for another two weeks.

“Your sister said she could see the lights all the way from Hoboken. What the hell was it even? Ghosts? That’s ridiculous!” 

“I don’t know. I was at home.”

She did know. She had done the paperwork. She knew exactly how many ghosts had been shoved into that containment unit and by extension how many had escaped. She brushed her fingers over Egon’s marshmallow free hair. He was curled into a ball on her couch that was far too small for his long frame. That hadn’t stopped him falling asleep. Word had it the mayor’s office, press, and police were all looking for the guys, trying to work out what had happened and who should be blamed.

She’d put most of them into cabs and sent them off to places where they could rest and hide. She’d go back to the firehouse tomorrow and start filling out insurance paperwork. One bill that she had made sure was paid.

“Maybe you should think about moving. Your sister—”

“Ma, I’m fine. It was just one of those New York things. I’ve got absolutely nothing to be scared of.”


End file.
